Missouri Outlaws

Gustave Aimard

Description

In the early 1800s, much of the then-nascent United States remained unexplored and largely unsettled, populated only by small numbers of indigenous peoples, hearty pioneers, and outlaws on the run. In the thrilling Western The Missouri Outlaws, French writer Gustave Aimard spins a captivating yarn that includes all three groups.

Sujets

• Westerns
• Western (genre)
• Western

Informations

• Publié par: The Floating Press
• Date de parution: 01 décembre 2015
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781776596775
• Langue: English

Extrait

THE MISSOURI OUTLAWS
* * *
GUSTAVE AIMARD
Translated by
LASCELLES WRAXALL
 
*
The Missouri Outlaws From an 1877 edition Epub ISBN 978-1-77659-677-5 Also available: PDF ISBN 978-1-77659-678-2 © 2014 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
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Notice Preface Chapter I - The Good Ship Patriot Chapter II - Samuel Dickson Gives Advice to His Brother Chapter III - A Queer Customer Chapter IV - An Alliance Offensive and Defensive Chapter V - A Great Medicine Council Chapter VI - Samuel Dickson Hunts a Moose Deer Chapter VII - Joshua Dickson Becomes Master of the Valley Chapter VIII - Diana Dickson and Her Foe Chapter IX - They Make an Acquaintance Chapter X - Who the Stranger Was Chapter XI - Explanations Chapter XII - How the Three Travellers Went to George Clinton's Chapter XIII - Tom Mitchell Chapter XIV - Samuel and Joshua Chapter XV - New Characters Chapter XVI - Tom Mitchell as Redresser of Wrongs Chapter XVII - A Diplomatic Conversation Between Two Rascals Chapter XVIII - The Prisoner Chapter XIX - In Which Tom Mitchell Discovers that Honesty is a Good Speculation Chapter XX - A Strange Chase Chapter XXI - Captain Tom Mitchell, the Avenger Chapter XXII - A Desperate Struggle Endnotes
Notice
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Gustave Aimard was the adopted son of one of the most powerful Indiantribes, with whom he lived for more than fifteen years in the heart ofthe prairies, sharing their dangers and their combats, and accompanyingthem everywhere, rifle in one hand and tomahawk in the other. In turnsquatter, hunter, trapper, warrior, and miner, Gustave Aimard hastraversed America from the highest peaks of the Cordilleras to theocean shores, living from hand to mouth, happy for the day, carelessof the morrow. Hence it is that Gustave Aimard only describes hisown life. The Indians of whom he speaks he has known—the manners hedepicts are his own.
Preface
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Very few of the soul-stirring narratives written by GUSTAVE AIMARDare equal in freshness and vigour to "The Missouri Outlaws," hithertounpublished in this country. The characters of the Squatter, the real,restless, unconquerable American, who is always going ahead, and ofhis wife and daughter, are admirably depicted, while his eccentricbrother is a perfect gem of description. The great interest, however,of the narrative is centred in Tom Mitchell, the mysterious outlaw,whose fortunes excite the readers' imagination to the utmost. Therecan be no doubt he is one of the most original characters depicted bythe versatile pen of the great French novelist. In addition to beinga story of adventure, "The Missouri Outlaws" is also a love tale, andabounds in tender pathos, the interest of which is well sustained in"The Prairie Flower" and in its sequel, "The Indian Scout."
PERCY B. ST. JOHN.
London: February, 1877.
Chapter I - The Good Ship Patriot
*
On the 4th of August, 1801, a little after eight o'clock at night, justas the last rays of the setting sun disappeared behind the heightsof Dorchester, gilding as they did so the summits of certain islandsscattered at the entrance to Boston Bay, some idlers of both sexes,collected on Beacon Hill, at the foot of the lighthouse, saw a largevessel making for the harbour.
At first it seemed as if the ship would be compelled to desist from herdesign, as the wind was slightly contrary; but, by a series of skilfulmanoeuvres, it at last passed by the danger which threatened, the sailswere one by one taken in and furled, and finally the anchor was castbeside one of the many vessels in port.
A few minutes later nothing was to be seen on deck save one man walkingup and down doing duty as watch for the time being.
The vessel had, under cover of a dense fog, escaped from Brest, slippedpast the English cruisers, and finally, after many dangers, reached itsdestination.
Descending into the cabin, we find two men seated at a table upon whichwere glasses, bottles, pipes, and tobacco, conversing and smoking.
These were Captain Pierre Durand, a young man, with regular but rathereffeminate features, and yet a look of frank honesty, to which hissparkling eyes, his broad forehead, his long waving hair, gave anappearance of singular energy. Though every inch a sailor, there was arefinement about him not generally found in his class.
His companion was a handsome and haughty young man, of abouttwo-and-twenty, of moderate height, but with very broad shoulders; hewas evidently of powerful make, with nerves of steel. His complexionwas olive; his hair long wavy black; his eyes were large and bold; theexpression of his countenance sombre and thoughtful, while at thisearly age many a wrinkle caused by thought or suffering was to beobserved.
There had evidently been a warm discussion, for the captain was walkingup and down, a frown upon his brow. Suddenly, however, he reseatedhimself and held out his hand across the table.
"I was wrong. Do not be vexed," he said.
"I am not angry, my good Pierre," he answered.
"Then why sulk with your friend?"
"I do not sulk, heaven knows; I am simply sad. You have reopened awound I thought forever closed," the other added with a sigh.
"Well, then, in heaven's name, if it be so," cried the captain, "let ustalk about something else—and above all, let us drink. This old rum isa sovereign remedy for the blues. Your health, my friend."
Both drank after touching glasses, and then silence again ensued.
"Now, my dear Oliver," resumed the captain, "at last we are safe inBoston. We leave tomorrow. What do you intend to do?"
"You remember our conversation at Brest?"
"I have not forgotten it, but I never seriously entertained the idea.We had dined rather copiously."
"We were very sober. There were two bottles on the table, one emptyand the other nearly full. I then told you that though I had only justreturned to France after an absence of ten years, I was compelled toleave at a moment's notice, and to leave without raising any suspicion.I wanted to depart without anyone being able to obtain the slightestclue; you remember," he added.
"I do, and I told you that I would run the blockade that very night, ifthe weather turned out as bad as I expected. Did I keep my promise?"
"With all the loyalty of your honest heart. I also told you I intendedremaining in America."
"It is to that madcap resolution I object," said the captainemphatically. "Why not stay with me? You are an excellent sailor—youshall be my chief officer."
"No, my friend. I can accept nothing which can ever tempt me to returnto France," he answered.
"How you suffer!" sighed his friend.
"Horribly. Come, my friend, as we shall part for ever tomorrow, I willtell you my history."
"Not if it makes you suffer."
"I will be brief. Sad as my story is, it is not very long."
"Go on," replied Captain Durand, filling up two more glasses of rum,and lighting a fresh cigar for himself.
"I will not sermonise, but begin at the beginning. I was born in Paris,but might be English, German, or even Russian, for all I know. I amsimply aware that my birthplace was Paris, in the house of a doctor,where my mother took refuge. It was in the Rue St. Honoré I firstsaw the light but, as soon as I could be removed, was sent to theFoundling. There I remained four years, until a loving young couple,who had lost their only child, adopted me. They were poor, and lived onthe third floor of a wretched old house, in the Rue Plumet, where, Imust own, I had enough, but of very coarse, food."
"One day, however, fortune knocked at the door. My adopted mother was,and still is, one of the handsomest women in Paris. By accident an oldfriend, a distant relation, a man of high position, found her out. Heat once procured a lucrative appointment for my supposed parent, andwe moved to a splendid residence in the Faubourg du Roule. The friend,who lived close by, at once began to visit us every evening, and, by acurious coincidence, the husband always found business which requiredhis absence. He never returned until a quarter of an hour after theother had left."
"Accommodating husband," sneered Durand.
"Just so. But, unfortunately for me, I became older, curious, wasalways turning up when not wanted, and saying things which were notrequired. It was decided that I was an incorrigible scamp, and must besent away."
"My adopted mother had relations at Dunkirk, and I was packed off tothem to be sent to sea as cabin boy. Then only did I discover thatthese people were not my parents. My supposed mother coldly kissed me,told me to be a good boy and gave me ten sous; my father, who escortedme to the ramshackle vehicle which traded between Paris and Calais,told me to remember this, that society never having done anything forme, I was to do nothing for society; the only virtues to which men everowed success were, he said, selfishness and ingratitude. He furtheradded, 'Good-bye, we shall never meet again.'"
"He turned his back and left me. This was my first young sorrow, and Ifelt it very much."
"I feel for you," said the captain; "your story is very much like myown."
"These people, knowing me then to be very delicate, hoped that thehardy profession they had selected for me would kill me. They weremistaken."
"As I see," answered Durand.
"I was first boy on board a herring boat, where I had to endure thebrutality and insolence of a low drunkard, who never spoke except withan oath from his mouth, accompanying it with a blow from his cane. Myapprenticeship was one long terr